Run, Baby, Run
by soupofthedaysara
Summary: A oneshot "webisode" inspired by We The Kings' 'Check Yes, Juliet.' The dead walk at an Oklahoma county fair. Rated T, language.


Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead story or characters. No money is being made from this story and no copyright infringement was intended in its creation.

A/N: This story came to me after a trip to the county fair and was inspired, in part, by We The Kings' _Check Yes, Juliet_. Really, I just wanted to try my hand at some gore at a fair. This story is a oneshot "webisode" and does not include any of the tv or comic characters. Please leave a review and let me know what you think!

Run, Baby, Run

They were high if they thought I would stay in my room. I hadn't made it a habbit of listening to my parents in all my seventeen years. Why would tonight be any different? The flat rubber soles of my canvas slip-ons barely made a sound as I paced back to the window. I had chosen them for just this purpose. Hands on my hips, I glanced out the window at the fire-colored sunset, the dry summer breeze rustling the lacy white curtains. Absently, I stuck my thumbnail in my mouth and worried it mercilessly. He would be here soon.

It was all so unfair. I was seventeen, for f-'s sake! Cutting class and failing chemistry was what a normal teen_ should _be doing! It's not like I was ever going to need chemistry, after all. Not in Hollywood! What the hell did an Academy Award-winning actress need to know about single- and double-bonds anyway? My senior year was approaching, getting closer and closer with every orange sunset. And after graduation I vowed to kick the dust of this hick town in the middle of East Oklahoma Nowhere off my shoes for good. And never look back.

But until that day I was determined to have fun. It was the summer of before my senior year, after all. And the county fair was finally here. The entertainment in this waste of space town was slim. Aside from a twelve-pack of Natty Light and a fire by the quarry, there wasn't bound to be anything as interesting as the fair all summer long. Hell if I was going to miss it. My parents were just going to have to ground me later. Much, much later. That is, if Ronnie would get his ass moving and get over here to pick me up!

I paused my silent pacing and listened as the light grew fainter and fainter through the lace curtains. The hum of the dishwasher picked up the low murmurs of Wheel Of Fortune on the tv and climbed the stairs to my ears. It was the sound of boring. And sadly, it was the prevailing noise of my life. My parents were probably sitting in their chairs, zoning out to Pat and Vanna, ignoring each other, face slack, eyes empty like a couple of freaking zombies! God! And this was supposed to be the good life? No thanks.

Thunk!

Yes! Several more thunks on the fading paint of my window frame had my lips pulling back in a wide smile. I carefully padded to the window and leaned out, my hair falling in glossy black strands over my shoulder. I tossed it back and batted away another rock as it nearly sailed right into my face. Ronnie cringed, mouthing an apology. He tucked his hands deep into the pockets of his worn Levi's and shrugged. Ronnie was a good pitcher, as good as any in the state. He'd probably get a scholarship to play baseball someplace far away from here, lucky bastard. That didn't change the fact that he came from trash, everyone said. His daddy ran off with his mama's best friend. They have an auto body shop outside of Chicago, and a side business of chopping stolen cars for the mob, or so Ronnie liked to imagine. His mama was the town drunk. She'd been thrown out of more bars than monkey turds!

Still, he was as good as they come. He worked two jobs to look after his little sister. He kept B's and C's in spite of it. And he was a baseball star to boot. Not good enough for me, or so said my mama. I guess coming from trash is contageous! Though, I kinda like that my parents hate him. Just one more twist of the knife when they find out I'm gone.

Reaching out wide, I wasted no time grabbing the branch of the old oak and looping my legs around it, shimmying down the fat trunk. As my feet hit the ground softly, Ronnie grabbed my hand, his face alight with mischief. His dark eyes sparkled and the air whooshed from my lungs. Did I mention Ronnie was a fox?

"Run, baby. Run!" he hissed, pulling me behind him. We dove into his beat up old Chevy just as the porch light flickered to life, illuminating the yard and the dead bugs caught in its glass globe. Ronnie thumbed the key in the ignition and I wrenched the rusty door closed, cringing at the god-awful squeal of the hinges. As the front door opened, Ronnie gunned the engines and thundered down the quiet road. I looked back to see my mom in her flowered bath robe, staring behind us with wide, disbelieving eyes.

I snorted as I laughed, slumping down in the seat. The old leather smelled like Ronnie smelled, strong and solid and sure, like he could meet any challenge and kick ass at it. When I was with him, I felt the same. "Did she see me?" I asked between fits of giggles, not really caring one way or the other.

"Naw," said Ronnie, shaking his head, his thick straw-colored waves of hair tucked up under a red and white Oklahoma Sooners ball cap. The white of the cap was dingy with layers of dirt and sweat. The same color as his plain white t shirt. The boy was no trend setter, I'll admit. But the girls stared anyway. I felt lucky that he was all mine. "But your mama ain't stupid, Juliet. Your ass is grass when you get home." He laughed and put his arm around me, tugging me closer to his side.

I snuggled into him, even though it was, like, a thousand degrees. The sun had just dipped below the wide, flat horizon, but It still felt like mid-day. The air was still now that I was on the ground and not in my second-story room. It was stagnant. It felt like endless, interesting and exciting things would happen tonight. It felt like something was about to begin. "Then let's never go home," I suggested, resting my hand on his chest.

We pulled into the dusty fairgrounds just as the stars were peeking out from under their indigo blanket. Ronnie hopped out and slammed the door. He frowned at me through the windshield and pointed his finger accusingly. I smiled and reached for the door handle anyway. It pissed him off when I didn't wait for him to open the door. I wrenched it open an inch or two and laughed as he kicked it shut. He was laughing, too.

"You are stubborn as a mule, Juliet," he scolded as he opened my door and reached a hand up to help me out. "Why can't a fella just do something nice for you for once?" He shoved the door closed as soon as I stepped out of it's way.

I poked him roughly in the side. "Why do you insist on stuffy ol' manners?" I countered with my own question.

He grabbed up my hand and swung them both between us as we walked up to the ticket booth, kicking the dust with his boots. "Cause," he said with a wide smile, creasing the tanned skin around his stormy grey eyes. "I like to shock people who think I ain't got any manners at all." He kicked a clod of hard packed dirt onto my canvas shoes, covering them in the fine gray Oklahoma dust I hated so much. I made an exasperated sound.

"You have no manners!" I teased as I stopped to dust myself off. When I looked up, he was biting his lip sheepishly. I smiled to reasure him I wasn't mad. Much.

He tugged me by the hand and we hurried to meet the others. The crowd was huge and I stood on my toes to see beyond the fat lady and her five kids in front of me. Even stretching up I couldn't get a better view. I'm only five-two and she was as tall as she was wide. "Ronnie, do you see them?" I asked in annoyance as he dragged me past the corn dog stand, a man with greasy hair hollering at the passersby.

Ronnie looked easily over the crowd. "Sean said they would be by the Zipper."

Sean was a dick. But Kendra was my best friend and she was dating the dick. I had no idea what she saw in Sean. She was smart and fun. He was a cartoon of a dumb jock. "I'm not going on the Zipper," I announced.

Ronnie laughed as we waded through the sea of bodies. "Lighten up, Jules. It'll be fun."

I huffed. "If you think dying a gruesome death is fun. Those things are death traps. Do you know how many times those things are taken apart and slapped back together?"

Ronnie snorted. "No, do you?"

I scrunched my face petulantly. "There they are," I said, brightening suddenly. Kendra's puffy black hair was unmistakable, wrapped in a brightly colored scarf. Her long legs were bare under short, hot pink shorts, stretching in long dark columns until they ended in tan and turquoise cowboy boots. I knew exactly what Sean saw in her. I raised my hand and waved. Kendra jumped up and down with her hands on Sean's shoulders, jostling him with her every movement.

"You made it!" Kendra squealed. She threw an arm around my neck when I reached her. "I thought you were grounded."

I waved a hand dismissively. "Like that would stop me."

Sean nodded to Ronnie. "You see that freak the cops took down, dude? It was sick."

To Sean, everything was sick. "Naw, man, we missed it I guess."

This was the best part about the fair. People watching. The weirdos come out to play.

"So," Sean started, "this guy was, like, tweaked out or something. He bit the guy who tries to guess your weight, you know? The cops were on him like crazy. But the dude wasn't going down. I'm tellin' ya, man. Tweaked the fuck out!" Spit was flying as he described the action. "So the cops were, like, tearing him off the other guy and half his fucking neck came off! Then the cops just beat the shit out of him! Dude, it was sick!"

"Oh my God!" I said. "Was the guy alright?"

"Paramedics took him out before we could really see," Kendra said without as much enthusiasm as Sean. "They cuffed the guy and put him in a car. I think he bit a cop, too!"

"Sounds messed up," Ronnie said, hugging me closer. He looked up at the crazy death trap called the Zipper. "We doing this or what?" He rested his chin on the top of my head.

I gave a little shiver and a groan. Seriously? What made people want to get in a tiny metal cage and spin around on worn out gears?

"Naw, man!" Sean said, surprising me. I let my breath out in a relieved huff. "We should do the rifles. I want to shoot sumthin'."

We made our way through the thick crowd to the booth where two guys were holding rifles and calling to the crowd to try their skill. Humongous bananas with dreds and rasta hats hung sadly from the plywood painted a faded red, white and blue. The two guys took in the boys strutting up to them, girls in tow. One nudged the other with an elbow, and grinned. He was missing some teeth. His companion was much younger, only a little older than we were. He was tall and scrawny. He looked bored.

"Gimme that gun," Sean crowed, grabbing for the rifle. The older man deftly snatched it back.

"Now hold on there, son. These here are the real deal. This ain't no joke." He crossed his arms over his chest and eyed the boys seriously. I could see an eagle tatoo on his thick forearms. There was also a globe and banner with an anchor behind. He was a Marine. I eyeballed him. Vietnam, maybe. He was grey and grumpy.

"I know how to shoot," Sean huffed angrily.

"Three dollars to shoot. If you shoot out the star on the target, you win a small prize. For two dollars you can try again for a medium. Three in a row for the big banana," the younger man said in a monotone, repeating what he'd probably said a billion times already today.

Sean slammed his three dollars down and snatched the rifle from the Marine. The vet narrowed his eyes but stepped back. I watched as Ronnie shifted from foot to foot. He pulled out the money and handed it over to the bored one.

The two assumed the position, elbows on the scratchy blue plywood platform. Ronnie and Sean wiggled into place and became still. I could see them trade glances. Boys. Everything is a competition.

"Ready, Aim...Fire!" The Marine gave the signal and the boys started shooting. Well, Ronnie started shooting.

"Fuck!" Sean bellowed. "What the hell, man?"

The Marine laughed. "Safety, numbnuts!" The younger one finally cracked a smile. Sean gave him a nasty look, thumbed the safety and opened fire, gun aimed at the target. I had a sneaking feeling he was picturing the tall kid's face instead of the star.

"Hold your fire!" the Marine called. Both boys ceased fire. The targets were pulled back. Sean examined the paper.

"It's rigged. The sight's off!" he protested loudly. He balled it up and threw it at the younger man. He didn't even try to dodge it.

Ronnie held his target up for me to see. He was close. Still, it was not a winner. "You want a big banana?" he asked, and I couldn't help but hear the note of apprehension. I smiled. He was sweet, to offer but I knew Ronnie needed to make rent this month and his little sister wanted to go to horse camp next week.

"No," I answered. I saw the slight tension in his shoulders relax. His face broke into a relieved grin and he drew me closer to him, kissing me on the top of the head.

"I want a deep fried Reese's Cup," Kendra called over her shoulder as she walked away. We followed and as she looked back, so did we. Sean was leaning over the booth, yelling at the two guys behind it. Ronnie jogged the few steps back to him and laid a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, man," Ronnie said calmly to his friend. "Chill. It's just a game!" He shook him playfully, but his grip was hard. Sean may be the star tackle and big as a damn bus, but Ronnie was hard muscle from summer jobs on the sod farm just outside of town. I'd bet on Ronnie to win that fight. Sean poked a finger at the guys menacingly, but came away with Ronnie. As they walked back to Kendra and me, Sean roughly shoved Ronnie's hand off his shoulder.

"Jeez, Sean," I snarked, acid barely covering the alarm in my voice. "Lay of the 'roids and chill the hell out."

Kendra stalked up to him with her hands fisted on her tiny hips. "Just for that," she commanded, pointing a brightly painted nail in his face, "you're paying for my Reese's!" She turned on her heels, snapping at him to follow. "Hunh, embarrass me like that again and see what happens."

My eyes went wide when Sean's massive shoulders slumped forward and he obeyed like a cowed dog.

After five thousand calories of batter dipped and deep fried chocolate and peanut butter, we wandered aimlessly between the different midway games and carnival rides. The lights blinked and trailed in every color of the rainbow. Voices of barkers called folks to try this skill or that, to test their luck. Music and laughter made my heart lighter. So much fun and energy and life packed into forty acres of dust. I was having a good time and studiously ignoring what awaited me at home.

"Pirate Ship?" Kendra asked as we passed the ride, bouncing up and down in her cowboy boots. I looked up. The screams of the passengers grew loud and shrill as the ride swung low to the ground, high and distant as it reached its apex. I gulped.

Shaking my head, I stared wide-eyed. "Nothing that goes upside down."

"Damn, girl," Kendra whined. "I ain't ridin' no kiddie train with you! Time to man up."

"You two go ahead," Ronnie suggested. "Juliet and I will watch." He grabbed my hand. I loved his warm solidness. I nodded my consent.

"Lame," Kendra shot at us both before dashing off with Sean in tow. "I hope I don't puke!" I heard her shrill voice above the screams.

Hand in hand, we continued to walk along. We stopped at the batting cage and I saw the brief smile flicker across Ronnie's face. "You wanna see how fast you can hit it, don't you?" I asked.

"Naw," he answered, pushing his hands into his pockets, his eyes straying from me to the man with the bat. "There's a reason I'm a pitcher. It'll just be a waste of money."

"Come on," I urged. Pulling out two dollars, I handed them off to the man and he tossed the bat to Ronnie. Ronnie caught it reflexively, agile and easy in his movements. He handed the bat to me. I shook my head. Talk about a waste of money. Me and sports? Ha!

Ronnie squared up on the base, bat over his shoulder. I was looking at him, tense and poised ready to strike. I hadn't seen it coming. I only heard the scream. Ronnie jumped back and both our heads jerked in the direction of the man who had tossed Ronnie the bat. He was screetching and clawing at someone with lanky black hair, a man or a woman I couldn't tell which. To my horror, I realized the long-haired person had their jaws clamped tightly around the bat guy's upper arm. And biting hard.

The man screamed louder as the black-haired attacker tore a large, gruesome chunk out of the guy's bicep. I yelled wildly. Ronnie hauled the bat back and swung at the attacker, a guy I could now see. The bat connected with his head, smashing it open like a watermelon. The bitten man fell to the ground one way and the smashed-in-head-guy fell another.

"Ohmygodohmygod," I repeated over and over, putting a hand to my stomach. I was going to puke for sure and these were my favorite shoes! I think I had the meth-head's brains on my shirt. Ronnie dropped the bat and put his hands over the other guy's forearm. The man's face was a sick, grey color and obscenely red blood was gushing through Ronnie's fingers.

"Juliet!" he cried over his shoulder. "Get help! Now!"

My feet felt like cinder blocks. I couldn't move. I felt myself shoved aside and a man with salt and pepper hair swooped in, settling next to Ronnie. "I'm a doctor," he said calmly. "What happened?" he was asking, looking between Ronnie, me and the man whose face was now the color of ash. It was obvious the only information he was gonna get would come from the first two options.

"This guy just bit him, ripped a chunk right out of him. Like a friggin' shark!" I screamed. I heard whimpering behind me. Slowly turning, I came face to face with a woman and a little girl. The doc's family, I guessed. "Jesus!" was all I could manage by way of consolation for my harsh description. The mom hugged the girl close, sheilding her eyes.

"And you did that?" The doc's voice held no note of accusation, but Ronnie's face fell immediately.

"Yes, sir," he answered, shamefaced, looking at the mess of a man scattered on the ground. "I didn't think..."

A huge crowd had gathered around us. A couple of policemen strode into the middle and looked around. On their faces was clearly written "Not Again!" as they exchanged a worried glance. They snapped into "official business" mode and started shuffling the crowd back. One bent to assess the injured man and to speak to Ronnie. They wouldn't let me close, though, so I couldn't hear what they were saying. I was just about to shift into bitch mode and demand that I be allowed to stay with Ronnie when another scream sounded from just behind me. I spun around and saw a scene straight from a freakin' horror movie.

A group of about twenty or so of those tweaker freaks was tearing through the crowd. It looked like they were eating everyone they could get their hands on. I kid you not-eating people. "Ronnie!" I freaked and shoved past the cop who was unholstering his sidearm. Ronnie was on his feet and reaching for me with one hand. In the other was the baseball bat. He tugged me behind him and his eyes scanned the crowd urgently.

"Kendra," I whispered, my eyes raking the people by the Pirate Ship. That was the area where the majority of the attacks were happening.

Ronnie squeezed my hand. "We'll find them," he reassured. He pulled me into the little dirt alley behind the batting game and the several neighboring booths. It was empty, but the booths cast creepy shadows in the bright halogen lighting. We carefully manouvered through the space, careful to keep the freaks in sight. They seemed content to feast on those who had fallen. I couldn't look as they pulled at guts with their bare hands. But try as I might, there was no way to block out the shrieks and pitiful cries for help.

For several minutes there had been the loud crack of gunfire. But now I heard none. Where had the cops gone? Were they just going to let these cracked out junkies kill people as they pleased?

With my eyes closed, clinging to Ronnie's arm like a koala to a tree, letting him guide me, I didn't see what reached out and grabbed my shoulder. I gave an almighty cry and dug my nails into the tanned flesh of Ronnie's bicep. He hollered as I scratched him, but spun and raised his bat, ready to deliver a killing blow.

"Jeez, Ron," Sean cried and threw his hands up in the air in surrender. "Relax." He dropped his arms and draped one across Kendra's shoulders. "What's the matter with you?"

Ronnie kept the bat raised as his eyes darted around. "Seriously?" He frowned in disbelief as he scanned the area. "Tell me you didn't see what the hell just happened?"

"What?" He shrugged his beefy shoulders. Ronnie fisted his free hand in the boy's shirt and shoved his face between the dart booth and the lemonade stand.

"Holy shit!" Sean gasped, his eyes the size of Frisbees. "What the fuck is going on?"

Ronnie let him go, gripping the bat with both hands in a white-knuckle grip. "I don't know, man. But I think it's time to go." I bobbed my head up and down so fervently in agreement it might have snapped off and rolled away. Tears made my vision blurry.

Sean pushed his way ahead, frantically searching for a clear path leading to the exit. Ronnie followed more cautiously, tugging me securely behind him. I reached out and grabbed madly for Kendra's hand. We slunk along in the shadows like a slow, shit-scared version of Crack the Whip.

Kendra was shaking violently and her head snapped back and forth like she was watching the fastest game of ping-pong ever. I knew exactly how she felt. The shadows seemed to crawl around us, an unseen threat surrounding us. Her long nails were digging into the flesh of my arm. Every now and then I heard the sniff of her silent sobs. Well, at least she was keeping it together enough to stay quiet. I wish I could say the same for Sean. He was yelling a steady stream of cuss words as he weaved between the tents, looking for a way out.

"Son of a..." Sean hollered, jumping back. "This place is crawling. What the fuck are these guys? Some whacked out cult? Are there canibalisitic cults?" He was making too much noise. For some reason, I just knew it. I straggled, pulling Ronnie back and widening the gap between me, Kendra and Ronnie and the rambling moron who was going to get us all eaten.

Ronnie hissed at Sean to be quiet, but he kept up his frantic litany. Ronnie scanned the area. He pulled us forward to a light tower, one of those big rental deals with four enormous halogens on top. Handing me the bat, he put one booted foot on the steel scaffolding. "We need a better view. If we could get to the truck, we'll be golden..." He pulled himself up off the ground and I panicked.

Grabbing his ankle, I hauled him back a foot. "Unh, uh! I can't hit someone with this!" I hissed, hopping with anxiety. "They'll eat us before I can even wind up. You stay down here, I'll climb!" He looked like he was about to say something. I didn't wait to hear it. I gripped the steel with both hands. Climbing hand over hand, foot over foot, I was above the tents and stands in seconds. What I saw took my breath away and slicked my palms with a cold sweat.

They were everywhere. In every direction I looked I saw screaming masses of fair goers running, and even more of them bleeding on the ground. Dozens and dozens of crazed, blood-soaked monsters ambled over the bodies, searching out more and more to devour. My heart hammered wildly in my chest. "Oh my God..."

I climbed halfway before my nerves got the better of me and I slid down the rest of the way. Ronnie caught me and spun me to face him, his face went pale as he glared at me. He knew. "The exit?" he whispered.

I shook my head. "Everyone had the same idea...It's completely choked with people trying to get out. There were tail lights as far as I could see and none of them were moving."

Ronnie swore quietly, gripping my shoulder tightly. "There's gotta be a way out." I put a hand over his, trying to absorb some of his steadiness, and wracked my brain.

"There were less people over by the livestock pavilion and rodeo arena. Maybe..." I offered.

Kendra whimpered. "That's going the wrong way! We'll be headed for the back of the fairgrounds. I want to get out of here!" she screetched, pulsing up and down on her toes as if ready to run.

Ronnie bit his lip. "How many people?" he asked me.

I shook my head. "It looked all but empty to me."

He rubbed his hand over his face and glanced back the way we were headed. From the look on his face, I could almost hear his thoughts. "Sean," he called finally. "This way!"

He tugged my hand and I grabbed Kendra's slack one and we turned in the other direction, heading back into the screams and groans of the dead and dying.

Sean jogged up behind us. "What the hell, man?" he asked as he approached us. "We're seriously going that way?"

"Do you have a better plan?" I asked, pitching my voice low. I could swear I heard shuffling above our own scared footsteps.

"You're gonna get us killed!" he shouted with fire in his words. Stubbornly he stopped and planted both feet. We froze and spun to face Sean, ready to lay it all out for him in a not-so-nice way, but the words died on my tongue. Three bloodied, battered and stumbling things were laboring toward him slowly, their jaws clacking in anticipation, hands grasping at the air. My eyes were wide and I think I may have screamed, but I doubt I was capable of anything at that moment, well, maybe shitting my pants, but that was definitely it.

I heard a click behind me.

"No," a voice said, very close to our little group, "_You're_ gonna get _you_ killed!" I turned and stared straight into the grouchy, greying face of the old Marine. He was pointing a nasty-looking rifle at Sean. He fired.

Sean made a very girly sound and scrunched up as small as he could. The first attacker fell just feet from him. Then the second and the third in quick succession.

"What the fuck!" Sean yelled at the man. But the ex-Marine only turned and stalked off to the left, the way we had been headed. Without looking back we followed, leaving Sean to make up his own mind. Not surprisingly, he ran to catch up to us.

We wound our way back to the red, white and blue booth where the boys had shot at paper targets. Keeping our eyes peeled for crazy cannibals, we slunk in through the back. The Marine handed off guns to everyone whose hands weren't shaking too badly to hold one. I held mine out in front of me as if he'd just handed me a live grenade. We weren't going to be shooting at paper targets.

"We stand a better chance with these," the old man grumbled at me when he noted my reaction. "Just point and squeeze. Even numbnuts back there can't get it wrong." He chuckled as he nodded to Sean. "Make certain that you're pointing it at something you don't mind killin', is all." He slung an extra over his shoulder and shouted, "Jimmy!" The tall, lanky kid ambled out, armed to the teeth. Jeez, I thought, it's like they expected something like this.

We scooted out into the darkness and hugged the shadows as we made our way back toward the livestock area. "I was headed to the light tower to get the lay of the land. Looks like you beat me there." He pressed up againts the wall of a ribbon fries vendor and peeked out, leading with his gun. The coast was clear, or that's what I gathered from the crazy hand signals he flashed. "Heard what you said about the exits. But there's a way out through the arena."

I felt Ronnie breathe a sigh of releif in front of me. We would get out. All of us. I knew Ronnie was worried about getting to his little sister. I was thinking of climbing back through my safe window of my safe house when I crashed into Ronnie's broad back with an "oof!". The men had stopped. A prickle of panic went up my spine.

"What's..." I whispered but Ronnie stopped me with a finger to his lips. He pointed around the corner at something I couldn't see.

Sickening snarls and crunches could be heard. I tasted the acrid rise of bile. They were up ahead. Eating something. Or someone. Kendra wimpered and burried her face in my hair.

Ronnie and the Marine and the skinny kid whispered something and I saw Ronnie nod. The grey-haired man held up one finger. Then two. Three.

They stepped out from the cover of the building and all three began popping off shots, cracks like firecrackers sounding in my ears. As the last shots echoed, the skinny guy waved for us to move. We stepped forward and saw the gruesome aftermath. Twenty bodies were tossed around what had once been a small family-mom, dad and two little girls. I stepped forward and inched around the massacre. But I kept my eyes wide open.

I saw the attackers, laid out just like the family. But they were strikingly different. Their skin was grey, like something that had been dead for a lot longer than a few meager seconds. Some were missing hands or large chunks of flesh, creating grave wounds no mortal could sustain. One seemed to have been disembowled. What the...

"They're dead," I breathed.

"Yeah," Sean hissed nastily. "No shit, Einstein!"

"She's right," the skinny guy, Jimmy, said. "These people died a while ago."

"And they came back?" Kendra hiccuped. "LIke...?"

"Zombies," Ronnie finished in disbelief.

Sean bent down to examine one. "Dude," he called with a stupid grin to Ronnie, "They smell like your mom, bro!" He laughed hysterically at his own joke.

Ronnie's face clouded up like the Oklahoma sky in March. He kicked aside a rotting corpse and strode to the far end of the carnage. I picked my way across the bodies, following him. "Douche bag!" I shot back at Sean, not turning. He was an asshole!

A scream made me turn and, to my surprise, I leveled my rifle at my eye, taking aim at the trouble. See, _Call of Duty _wasn't an entire waste of time! The thought was wiped from my mind as Kendra screamed and screamed. One of the dead-but-not-dead things had reached up and grabbed Sean by the arm, the same one he'd been making an unflattering comparisson to Ronnie's mom. He was shouting for help and crying.

Another rifle pop and the thing went slack, falling away from Sean. Jimmy had shot it clean through the eye. "Damn," he said quietly. "I shot that one square in the chest! Tough sumbitch!"

Ronnie was still frowning. "Really? Do you think maybe..."

The ex-Marine scowled deeply. "Shoot for the head, y'all hear?" He turned and began again for the back of the fairgrounds. Without a word more, we all followed after him.

After a few more minutes of trekking across the dusty, quiet grounds we stood before a wooden sign that read "WAYNE G. HAYES LIVESTOCK PAVILLION". The sign hung over a huge expanse of ground, a wooden roof peaking high above them. It looked like a giant barn and it smelled like one, too. The soft lowing of cattle and whinny of horses could be heard in the dark, cave-like structure. As one, we halted and stared into the blackness.

"Power's out back here," Jimmy noted. "Someone must've hit a transformer, or sumthin'."

Ronnie nodded, but none of us moved. The Marine took a quiet step, rifle at the ready, ears cocked and listening for any warning. "Animals're wound up," he said, his boots crunching softly on the straw-strewn ground. We could hear the stamp and shuffle now of aggitated beasts. We huddled together and moved slowly as one. The blackness was oppressive, weighing on my shoulders as we crossed the threshold. There was no choice, however, but to move forward. The arena was a straight shot through the pavillion.

"What if we got a horse?" Sean whispered into the silence. "We'd be a hell of a lot faster." He stepped away from the group with a loud crunch, lifting the latch of the nearest stall. He disappeared into the darkness before I even turned around.

"No!" the Marine hissed. "Ya dumb..." But he didn't get to finish. The most gut-wrenching squeal pierced the night. The men ran forward with rifles raised as the screams escalated in pitch and volume. Jimmy kicked the stall door back with his foot. What they saw inside had them stepping back immediately. The three fired into the stall, a constant stream of bullets blazing in the darkness. I dropped my rifle and clung to Kendra, crushing her to me in sheer terror.

"Help...me..." a weak voice called as the barrage ceased. I don't know why I did it, but I stepped to the side and peered in. Six of the monsters were feasting on a prize cow when Sean had interrupted them. The boy was a bloody mess sprawled half way between the door and the cow's remains. His guts were scattered over the dirt and straw floor. Blood bubbled on his lips as he coughed and weezed. "Help." he sputtered.

Ronnie rushed forward, pushing past the ex-Marine who held up a restrainig hand. "Hold on, man." Ronnie was pressing his hands to the wound, an act of utter futility. "Come on!" he called over his shoulder. "Don't just stand there!"

The ex-Marine stepped forward and raised his rifle. "Nothin' for it," he said calmly and pulled the trigger. Jimmy hauled Ronnie to his feet and spun him to face the door. Ronnie shrugged him off and scooped up his discarded gun. He snatched up my hand as he passed and pulled me roughly behind him, Kendra stumbling along under my arm.

The two men proceded with even more caution down the long dark walkway. Ronnie was fuming silently and striding along blindly. I strained all the more for sounds of danger. A horse screamed wildly and kicked at the clapboard wall of its stall. I jumped. A cow lowed in pain somewhere off to the left.

A hissing sound from behind made us all turn. The darkness behind us seemed to roil and roll like a kettle of water coming to a boil. Definite shapes appeared slowly, but the sound was all the confirmation we needed. A pack of those things had closed in behind us as we stumbled along in the darkness. It could have been a hoard of twenty or two hundred for all I knew. We turned on our heels and ran headlong down the black walkway.

"It was the sound," I heard the old guy bellow at Jimmy. "They heard us!"

Ronnie pulled us after him, cutting a sharp left turn down a side corridor. The sound and smell of animals was stronger as we now cut between rows upon rows of pens and stalls. For a moment my heart sank. We were heading away from the arena and the exit we were assured of only moments ago. But as I listened, I heard the wisdom of the plan.

Okay, I am an avid animal lover, as most farm girls are. But at that moment I have never been more thankful for survival of the fittest, and that hundreds of slower, tastier animals waited dumbly in their pens. The mob was halved as the walking dead corpses crashed through doors and scrambled over walls to get to the livestock. I tried my hardest to block out the noise, concentrating instead on putting one foot before the other and my grip on Ronnie's hand.

Behind me, Jimmy and the older guy (I can't believe I still didn't know the man's name!) were blasting away as they ran, the dead falling with every shot. Still they came.

"Shit!" Ronnie yelled and skidded to halt. I felt fingers of panic clawing up my belly and neck. No, no time for stopping! Crazed, flesh-eating monsters on our heels, if you haven't noticed! When I looked questioningly back to Ronnie, I knew why we stopped. His back was up against a wooden wall that stretched all the way to the high roof. Dead end!

Jimmy and the Marine turned and stood their ground, firing into the mass of squirming, decaying bodies that ambled closer and closer with each shot. My throat tightened and I felt like I was breathing around a tennis ball. With every body that fell, five clambered over it, advancing inch by inch. Kendra was sobbing in earnest now, clutching and scratching at my hand and wrist. Ronnie was casting frantic glances around, trying in vain to get us out of here. But even someone with their heads constantly in the clouds, a.k.a. me, had to face reality. It was hopeless. We would run out of bullets, or simply be overrun, and then what?

Chow time!

A frantic stamping and snorting was coming from the stall just to the right of where we huddled. An enormous black beast was crying and kicking the walls mightily. I backed away, eyes wide. Silly, to be backing away from a kicking horse when hundreds of reannimated corpses wanted to chew on me! Some things are just so ingrained in our fiber, I guess.

Ronnie saw the wild horse as well and went the opposite way I had chosen. He stepped right into the stall and rubbed the horse's flanks, calming it as he surveyed the space. Then he started ripping apart the wooden boards that separated this pen from the one behind it. I could see from here that the other stall was empty, the aisle that ran in front of it clear of the undead. I understood and took my hands to it as well. We threw the boards up against the wall, out of the horse's way. When the wall was only three feet high, we called to the others. Ronnie threw me up onto the giant beast's sweaty back and I helped to haul Kendra up behind me. I reached for Ronnie and he put out his hand then he hesitated.

"No!" I screamed. The horse gave an almighty lurch as Ronnie smacked it hard on the rump. It shot forward and cleared the fence with a foot to spare. Landing with a teeth-jarring impact, we turned sharply and thundered down the clear walkway, racing for the center aisle. I looked back and saw Ronnie running back out of the stall with his rifle in hand, ready to face the mob again.

Tears streaked down my face as we barreled down the wide dirt thoroughfare, aiming for the rodeo arena just beyond the enclosed pavillion. The tail end of the zombie mob cut us off from our goal and the stragglers at the back turned slowly in interest as we raced toward them. My fingers fisted in the stallion's mane, I leaned forward, preparing for a jump. Lowering my body to beome more streamlined with the horse, I called over my shoulder for Kendra to hang on. Twenty feet left. They began stumbling toward us. Ten feet. Now!

We landed hard in the middle of the hoard and I heard a yelp. I looked back. Kendra was gone. I turned and searched frantically in the sea of writhing bodies for my friend, but they were swarming her like ants over a dead junebug. She wasn't even screaming. She was gone. I spurred the horse on and he didn't need much encouraging, his eyes rolling wildly at the monsters scratching at his glossy black flesh. He surged powerfully forward.

A bony hand locked on my ankle and I began to slide from the horse's back. I kicked out ferociously and heard a satisfying crack. I tugged myself back into my seat and we shot out of the mess of bodies like a bullet from a gun.

The guns! I couldn't hear the guns anymore! My stomach clenched painfully. Ronnie.

Galloping closer and closer to the arena, I chanced a backwards glance. I could see nothing beyond the dark shadows stumbling behind me. No sign of the others. I was alone.

When I whipped my head back around, I was thundering into the wide dirt expanse of the rodeo arena. It was basically a round dirt circle flanked on either side by aluminum stands with corrugated metal roofs shading them from the hot Oklahoma summer. The rest of the arena was open to the sky. Stars shone brightly in the inky heavens.

On the far side was a row of holding pens where the cowboys would mount their impossible bulls and broncos, waiting for their chance at glory. Just like the cowboys, I thought, racing across the dirt. I only have to hang on for a few seconds.

"Come on," I urged the puffing and sweating stalion. I could see horse trailers and mammoth pickup trucks and four-by-fours lined up behind the gates. Eerie, without a soul in sight.

I looked over my shoulder. I couldn't see the sea of clawing corpses anymore, but if I had to guess, I'd hazard they were persistent. So I did not allow the charging horse to slow. When I looked around, I pulled up tight on the poor horse's mane, causing him to rear back, his hoofs clawing the air. There were half a dozen of the damned things right in front of us, dragging along in cowboy hats and spurs. One was even dressed as a rodeo clown.

I was tossed back several feet and landed hard on my butt, knocking the wind out of me. For a fraction of a second, I lay on my back, staring at the night sky. The cries and the screams from my horse woke me from my daze. I scrabbled back in the dust on hands and feet. The dead things descended on the horse. It kicked frantically, managing to knock a few away, but remained down. Watching, horrified, I backed away and inched toward the gates, never daring to take my eyes off the feasting monsters.

Only a few yards to go and I was out of this nightmare. There was a shiny black beast of a truck attached to a horse hauler parked just outside. If luck was on my side, the keys would still be in the ignition.

I was staring longingly at the truck, like it was water and I had just crossed the mother of all deserts, when hands wrapped around my legs, holding me to the spot. I cried out and kicked frantically, but the thing would not let go. The corpse was dragging itself toward me, its jaw snapping hungrily at my ankles. From the belly down, it was gone! Entrails slid along behind it where legs should have been. I nearly wretched and puked on it.

I couldn't kick it off, so I continued to hobble along with it attatched to me, frantically searching for a weapon and trying to keep tabs on the other dead things. I only made it a few feet before I stumbled and fell. It hissed and pulled closer, teeth just inches from my skin.

A crack sounded through the arena and I jumped, falling back hard on my wrist. Pain shot through my arm. But the thing holding my ankles was still, its head in pieces scattered across the dusty floor of the arena. I kicked it away from me. Looking back to the writhing mass on the horse's carcass, I froze. Every decaying face was turned in my direction, gore dripping from open, bloody jaws.

"Move, Juliet!" A voice cried over my head. I looked up just as the first zombies peeled away from the group and lurched in my direction. Ronnie! He was on the corrugated metal roof of the nearest stand of bleachers. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and shimmied down the supporting pole, landing hard only twenty feet behind me. He hefted the rifle and fired at the first advancing dead and they dropped like flour sacks. He raced to me and shoved me to my feet.

"Run, Baby!" he yelled as he threw me toward the gate. I raced for it, pumping my legs as hard as I've ever done before. My feet slapped the ground in quick succession. I heard the crack of gunfire, but I didn't dare look back. Slamming into the gate, my fingers fumbled uselessly with the latch. "Run," I heard over the snap of shots blasting from the gun.

I pulled myself up and over the metal gate and crashed to the ground. Behind me, Ronnie hopped the fence and pulled me up. We backed away as the zombies slammed one by one into the gate. Apparently they didn't know how to open the damn thing either.

"Come on," he said, tugging me away from the gate and heading to the black truck. He tried the door. Locked. "This way," he beckoned me to follow around to the back, cautious as we rounded it, looking out for more dead.

We struggled with the latch of the trailer, but managed to get it open with a loud, grating sound. I cringed at the noise and looked around frantically. The dead things were shaking the gate, pressing into it. It wouldn't hold much longer.

Ronnie helped me up. "Look for keys!" We searched through bags and crates. Nothing. Ronnie swore. He grabbed my hand and we stepped toward the door. Freezing in our places, we heard the unmistakeable hissing. "Get the doors!" he whispered, panicked.

We managed to pull the doors together just as pale fingers scrabbled at the latch. We locked it in place to the sound of moans and bangs. We were trapped.

Ronnie wiped the sweat from his eyes and backed away from the closed door and the noise of death beyond. There was nothing left to do so we sat huddled together in the hay and listened. I was shaking uncontrollably and Ronnie put his arm around me. The strangest sensation of utter annoyance filled my body. I'm not cold, I wanted to shout. But what was the point? It was just his way of letting me know he was there, but I wanted to rage and scream and cry. I didn't feel like comfort now.

Time passed but the moans and thuds of hands scratching for us did not. We had been silent for a long time. Finally I asked, "How did you get out? Of the pavilion, I mean."

Ronnie gave a small, mirthless chuckle. "Jimmy and Dwayne were holdin' em off and they told me to climb. So I climbed. All the way up to the rafters. I thought they were behind me, but when I looked back..." He didn't finish.

Dwayne! That was his name. For some insane reason I felt better.

"Kendra?" Ronnie asked. I shook my head in the dark.

A squeak snatched our attention away from our head count. A glimmer of light shone through a crack in the door, growing wider with each thump and thud of the trailer. They were getting in! I sucked in a ragged breath. "How many bullets left?"

I heard the snap and click of the gun's workings as Ronnie checked. "Two."

Shit! "Ronnie," I said quietly. "We're not getting out of here, are we?"

He reached over and grabbed my hand and squeezed it. I squeezed back. So this was it, huh? And earlier I was convinced I was going to die on the Zipper!

"Way I see it," Ronnie said after a pause, resignation giving his voice a dead, flat tone. "We could use these bullets and take out two of them, maybe. Or we could..."

I sat up straighter. My body was shaking in protest, but I knew this was the only solution. "Do it," I agreed shakily.

"Jules..." I heard his voice crack on my name. I pulled him to me and pressed my lips against his. One last kiss. I shoved away from him roughly and sucked in a deep breath.

"Okay," I said, making my voice steady and strong. It was a lie. "I'm ready."

"Jules..." he said through hitching sobs. I said nothing in return. The last thing I heard wouldn't be my weak response, or the crack of the gun, or even the moans and scrapes of the dead. I closed my eyes. It would be the sound of my name spoken by the boy I loved.

The End


End file.
